With Love, from the Weasleys
by Shebelle
Summary: Rose and Hermione are asleep... May as well do something.


Ron lay next to Hermione and stared down at the small bundle in his wife's arms. The baby girl looked at him with a curious expression, as though she were trying to figure out what to do to him. Ron smiled and gently wriggled his finger into her small palm, taking up Hermione's hand in his free one. "Rose," he murmured. "She's beautiful." Hermione smiled as well and leaned back against the pillows.

Ron carefully took baby Rose from Hermione and cradled her soothingly against his chest. Rose's face twisted up as though she were about to cry. "No, no, no, baby…" Ron crooned. "Daddy's here…" Rose's face relaxed as she registered who this man was, and she shifted, turning toward him slightly. Ron smiled down at his new daughter. _I'm a father… _His mind couldn't seem to register that fact, even after three months.

Hermione slept soundly next to him, tired after being up until the wee hours of the morning with the baby. Rose had been sleeping better lately, but she still was waking up every few hours. _I'll take baby duty tonight, _Ron thought. _Hermione deserves a break._ Smiling at his slumbering mate, Ron quietly rose from the bed and carried little Rose back to her cradle. The child had managed to doze off in his embrace, and luckily didn't wake when Ron laid her in the cradle. Ron lingered for a moment and watched his girls rest, and then tiptoed out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

Errol sat napping in his cage, face tucked under wing. Ron crossed to the cage and tapped it gently. "Errol," he whispered. "Come on, ya ruddy bird. Wake up." Errol ruffled his feathers and shook his head, opening his eyes slowly. He squawked and flapped his wings happily when he saw Ron, who quickly shushed him. "Errol!" he whispered. "Hermione and Rose are sleeping!" Ron could swear Errol blushed. Ron shook his head and pulled out a piece of clean parchment, evoking another happy outburst from the bird. Ron gave him a warning look, quickly silencing him again. Ron pulled out a quill and an inkpot and began writing a note to Harry and Ginny.

_Dear Potters,_

_Hermione and Rose just fell asleep, so I supposed I would drop you a quick note. I was thinking we could all have a get-together sometime. I'm sure James wants to see Rose, and Hermione and I would love to see your boys. They sure love it when Uncle Ron comes to visit. I guess that's all there really is to say at this point… Not much has happened since we last talked, other than Rose growing up. God, she grows up so fast. It seems like it was only a few months ago that Hermione was screaming that the baby was coming… Oh, wait… that _was _a few months ago…_

Ron laughed, then sighed and continued writing.

_Hermione grows more beautiful every day. She always has her nose in a book (but does that really surprise you?) and Rose in her arms. We're attempting to put another addition on the house, but with me jobless it's a little rough. I'm looking at some Muggle occupations that seem interesting… Maybe a zookeeper… or a receptionist… Hermione tells me that a receptionist is a woman's job, but I don't think it matters, really. A job is a job, I suppose._

Ron thought for a moment, wondering if he should ask his next question. He decided he should, and again continued writing.

_Have you heard anything from Draco lately? I heard he's got a son now. Tell ya the truth; I was surprised the poor git got a wife, let alone a kid. Ah well, everyone deserves love at one point or another._

Ron smiled and glanced toward the bedroom door, where his girls slept peacefully inside. He knew all too well that his statement was true. Twenty-five years ago, he never would have dreamed he'd be in the position he was in now. He still thought girls had cooties and recoiled at the thought of snogging. So much has changed…

_We think about you guys constantly. Hope to see you all soon. Love, from the Weasleys._

Ron nodded, satisfied, and carefully folded the parchment into a small square, small enough for Errol to carry. Then he quietly opened the cage door, letting the old owl perch on his arm. Ron carried Errol to the window, slid up the sash, and held the note for him to take. The owl carefully plucked the parchment from Ron's fingers and hopped onto the window pane, flapping his wings a few times to stretch. Then he pushed off from the wood of the window, launching himself into the air and in the direction of the Potters'.


End file.
